Magnificent
by Elianara
Summary: An infatuated Darla watches Liam before she turns him into Angelus. Liam (Angelus)/OC.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of this – just for fun.

Summary: An infatuated Darla watches Liam before she turns him into Angelus. Liam (Angelus)/OC. M for sexual themes.

Darla stood in the shadows inside the outhouse door, consciously trying not to let her pale silk gown touch the filthy floor and walls. She did not normally frequent such places, fine lady that she was, but she wanted to stay out of sight. One of her own kind would have been able to smell her but they were human, for now at least.

She had followed him around the town the last few evenings, He spent most nights in one of the less salubrious taverns where he would remain until he was thrown out or knocked out in a fight, something for which he seemed to have great affection. She was fascinated in equal measure by his handsome features and self-destructive capacity for violence. As a human he would probably die young, of a knife between the ribs or by his skull being battered against the cobbles, as one of her kind, well, he would stay young and beautiful a very long time.

Tonight she had been only a few paces behind him when he turned off the main street into a quiet lane with only a few houses and a livery stable. As there were very few people and a full moon Darla was forced to follow at some distance. She watched him walk through a gate to the side of the stables into a paddock dotted with apple trees. Darla, her movements quick and quiet, closed the distance between them and went to stand in a shadowy outhouse doorway where she could observe unseen.

The coachmen and stable boys were long since gone for the day but alongside the horses in their stalls nearby she could hear two human heartbeats.

He stood under one of the trees on the edge of the paddock, waiting.

The girl that emerged from among the shadows was petite and beautiful, dark haired with pale skin which glowed bluish in the moonlight. . She pressed herself to him, stretching up to capture his mouth greedily with hers. There was no pretence of chaste courtship and as they kissed Darla could smell their arousal.

Though she had seen him talk in passing with the whores who frequented the taverns, it never went further. It didn't surprise her that a man with his obvious charms would be getting his carnal pleasures for free elsewhere, even in a place as pious as Galway. She wondered who the girl was, their servant perhaps, or the wife of one of his father's business associates.

Darla was no more than ten feet away from the couple, their heartbeats and breathing audible to her on the still, warm night air as their kisses became more purposeful. He shed his coat, throwing it onto the dewy grass and sank down pulling the girl down on top of him.

His hands travelled roughly across the tops of the girl's thighs, over her hips and waist, pressing her body down onto his. He flipped her onto her back, as she worked to tug his shirt loose from his breeches, rapidly pulling it off over his head. Darla regarded the smooth hard outlines of his chest and belly with pleasure, as obviously did the girl who ran her hands slowly over him with a long shuddering breath.

The girl quickly shed her dark heavy dress and was left wearing a thin white chemise, she was visibly naked underneath. Darla noted with amusement that the girl took a few seconds to reach over and lay the dress carefully aside, no doubt in the hope of preserving the illusion of innocence and purity when she returned home later. He impatiently untied the top of her chemise, tearing it a little, to uncover her breasts. He looked as if he would devour them, his tongue and teeth running over the nipples making the girl gasp and moan in delight. He started to push the hem of the chemise up over her knees, gently, so the girl was barely aware of it happening. Darla watched, enthralled, as one hand slid slowly between the girls thighs, out of sight under the thin material. The girl cried out in surprise, his face contorting into a grin, as his fingers hit their target. The hand emerged a few seconds later. He brought it to his mouth and slowly sucked the tips of his fingers clean while looking down at the girl, no doubt using his intense dark eyes, eyes that had so entranced Darla, to good effect. She suspected the girl had never gone this far before, let him, any man, touch her there. Mixed with their combined arousal Darla could now smell fear, slight but distinct. She smiled to herself as she thought of how, in the many days to come, she would teach her childe to appreciate the rich scent of fear. For now though he was careful, almost gentle as his hand slid slowly back out of sight.

The hidden hand now began moving rapidly as he pressed gentle kisses across the girl's ribcage and stomach through the fabric. Tension was growing between Darla's own legs, had she not been wearing so many layers and trying to stay hidden her fingers would be mirroring his actions. The scent of fear from the girl had vanished and she was now pressing her hips up to meet his hand her breath coming in uneven gasps and sighs. This was not the practiced play acting of a whore; Darla knew that routine all too well. This girl was reacting instinctively to sensations she didn't know her own body was capable of, sensations that she had no doubt been told were sinful, evil. As the girls writhing increased, she tried to pull away from his hand, the sensations perhaps too intense, but he held her in place, whispering to her in the Gaelic tongue that Darla could not understand but loved the sound of. As pleasure overwhelmed the girl she cried out sharply, a guttural earthy sound. He lightly covered her mouth with his hand making shushing noises as he sat anxiously back on his heels and looked around. There was no one other that Darla, who had backed further into the shadows.

Satisfied they were still alone; he unfastened his breeches, releasing his hardened length. The girl was still now, the slight tang of fear had returned. Darla knew she was wondering how he would fit inside her, if it would hurt, if she would tear, bleed. True, he looked, even in Darla's all too wide experience, long and also thick but after his previous ministrations the girl would be more than ready for him, wet and soft inside. As was Darla, she could feel her own wetness slick between her thighs.

The girl lay back her heart pounding. The blood, virgin blood though not for long, sang to Darla. She was suddenly glad she had fed before coming here, she would not want to have to break up this delightful tableaux with something as vulgar as ripping the girls throat out, though that would come. She would be one of his first kills, first feeds, after his family of course. Darla might have him pleasure the girl again before they fed, the lust sweetening her blood.

He laid himself over her, whispering again into her ear, the language soft and lyrical. Darla dearly wished she knew what was being said, perhaps a false promise of love. The couple suddenly looked serious, intense as he settled between her thighs. There was a pained intake of breath from the girl, no doubt caused by the pain of her maidenhead tearing. He rested for a moment, his weight on his forearms, lightly kissing her lips as she adjusted to him.

Some part of Darla, very deeply buried, a part forever human, was pleased he was gentle with the girl, even if his intentions were far from honourable. She remembered the pain and degradation inflicted by the man who took her virginity with a shiver.

After a few seconds he began to thrust into her very gently, his force increasing gradually as the girl got used to the sensation. Darla could see the effort of him holding back in the tense muscles of his shoulders. All the while he whispered to the girl, delighted surprise spreading over her face as he moved inside her. If she knew anything of the act at all she had likely been told it was unpleasant, painful, something to be endured, instead as she tipped into a second climax her hands were gripping his hips, encouraging him, holding him within her. Darla watched as a wave of tension flowed across his body signalling his own release, his hands tightly gripping the fabric of his coat beneath them. His moan muffled in the girls shoulder. The girl moved one hand to his hair pulling him, as if by instinct, into a rough kiss.

The couple lay together for a few moments, sated. Then, perhaps suddenly conscious of their exposed position, they started to get up and tidy themselves. He looked around carefully for signs anyone had been watching them as he put on his shirt and fastened his breeches, shaking his coat as he lifted it off the ground. The girl pulled on the dress which she had been so careful with. She turned away to fasten herself up, modesty returning as desire subsided. She touched him lightly on the arm, whispering a goodbye as she started to walk away. He, obviously not satisfied with such a lukewarm farewell, grabbed her wrist and in one motion pulled her back to him and into a deep kiss. The girl visibly softened in his arms as he ran his splayed hands over her waist and hips. That was when Darla realised; the dark dress was not a dress at all. It was a habit, the habit of a novice nun. She only barely managed to contain a cry of amusement.

He truly was magnificent and soon, tonight, she would make him hers.

**Thanks for reading. Reviews (positive or not) always welcome!**


End file.
